From Humble Beginnings
by Deserdi Verimas
Summary: Retelling of the books without Ron. Harmony. More Neville. Rated M - violence, language and potential smut. Incomplete. Intended to be 1 - 7.
1. Chapter 1

Retelling of the books without Ron. What if Harry were a bit smarter, and knew how to get onto the platform. Harmony. More Neville. Rated M - potential violence and potential smut.

Disclosure: I don't own any of the Harry Potter Books, or any of the characters. I'm just taking them for a ride.

* * *

Harry held his breath as he pushed the luggage cart towards the apparently solid wall in front of him. Picking up speed, he pushed through the barrier, emerging on to the busy platform beyond. Looking around in wonder, he silently congratulated himself on picking the right barrier. From what he'd read in his school books, he'd known that the entrance to the platform was hidden in one of the arches, he just hadn't known which one. It had taken some 15 minutes watching to work out which one it was, and he was happy that he had managed to work it out without asking for help.

Harry looked around the busy platform, turning to try and take everything in. There were lots of people moving around on the platform, carrying various magical equipment. A little way away from him, a frizzy haired girl stood with her parents, saying goodbye. Leaning out of a window on the train, a young boy was talking to his grandmother, exchanging hugs.

Harry began pushing his luggage towards the rear of the train. Taking Hedwig's cage from where it was perched precariously on top of his trunk, he the luggage to the elderly wizard who was moving the trunks onto one of the carriages. He then made his way onto the train, and began looking for a seat.

After walking nearly the entire length of the train, he finally found a compartment that wasn't completely full. Pulling open the door, he poked his head inside, seeing the two occupants. They looked up at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry," he said to the boy and girl sitting inside. "Can I sit in here? Everywhere else is full of screaming students…"

The girl nodded her consent, and got up to let him sit down. Looking across at the boy on the other side of the table, he smiled nervously, putting out his hand. "Hello. I'm Harry Potter."

The boy looked startled, but took his hand. "Neville Longbottom. Nice to meet you," he said quietly.

Harry turned to the girl sitting next to him, finding her staring at him. "And you are?" He asked politely.

"Hermione Granger. Are you really _the _Harry Potter?!" She asked.

Harry looked at her, confused. "I'm _A_ Harry Potter. Why?"

"Well it's just I was doing some reading – I've picked up some extra books on magic, since I didn't know anything about it because I'm the first in my family, witch that is – and I was reading, and I read a lot about Harry Potter. And you – if you are him – are in loads of books. Well more like several really. _Modern Magical History_ is one of them, and, oh yeah, _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts,_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._ Of course, I've read a lot more books, and all of the set books, so I know quite a lot about it."

Harry perked up at this. "Oh, me too. I've read all of Hogwarts: A History, and most of the set books. But nothing else really, I was only able to go to Diagon Alley once…"

"Oh, that's okay. I can lend you some of my books if you want…"

They chatted away for a while, trading interesting books to read and finding out more about each other, Neville sitting in the corner looking out the window and looking at the countryside. After 15 minutes, they left London, and the view out the window turned from the grey of buildings to the green and blue of the countryside.

Around half twelve, just when Harry was beginning to wonder what they were going to do for lunch, there was a knock at the door. A polite old woman stood there, pushing a trolley laden with food before her. Interrupting their conversation, she enquired kindly "anything from the trolley, my dears?"

Harry, who was feeling a bit hungry at this time stood up. However, after looking at the cart quickly, he decided he didn't know what to ask for, looked at Hermione and Neville for help. Neville jumped into action. Neither Harry nor Hermione had lived in the Wizarding world, and neither had thought to read up on what kind of sweets were the best.

10 minutes later, the trio sitting in the compartment again, eating their way through the pile of sweets they had purchased. Harry and Hermione were sitting in the carriage, listening to a lecture by Neville, in which he enumerated a small history of each sweet, along with his favourites, where they were made and who invented them, and the amount of times he had thrown up eating each one. Harry was most interested in the animated _Chocolate Frogs_, whereas Hermione favoured the _Bertie Bots Every Flavour Beans_, judging by the four boxes she had absentmindedly eaten her way through.

"I don't really like the sweets much though." Neville was saying. "Nah, I prefer plants. At home, I usually tend to the gardens. I just feel like I can think more when I'm there. It's peaceful."

After finishing their lunch, the conversation turned to other topics. They talked about which schools they had attended before, what they liked to do, and their parents. Hermione was the first to bring this one up, and neither of the boys contributed much. Hermione, never one to be fazed, tried to get them to open up, and she eventually managed to gain a small piece about both Harry and Neville's family. Neville spoke quietly about living with his grandmother, whilst Harry merely revealed that his parents were dead. The group sat in silence after this, before striking up a new conversation about their wands.

Soon the group found it was time to change into their robes. After a quick debate in which they decided not to leave the carriage in order to change, Neville and Harry changed, Hermione standing guard outside the compartment. They then swapped places, with Hermione going inside to change.

Less than half an hour later, they pulled into the station. By an unspoken agreement, they remained together amid the masses of students that filled the station. Hearing the familiar booming voice of Hagrid yelling out "Firs-years!" they made their way over to the large man.

"'ello Harry! How was the train?"

"It was nice Hagrid, but I had a bit of trouble finding the platform!"

"Er, yeh, sorry 'bout that. I just thought you'd 'ave known, is all."

"That's all right Hagrid, I was just joking!"

"Oh, were yer? An' I see you got yerself some friends."

"Yes, this is Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger."

Neville mumbled his greetings, and Hermione stepped forward to greet the man. After the introductions were completed, Hagrid resumed his loud bellowing for the first years. When they had all been amassed, he set off down a steep path, the students having to run to keep up with his giant paces.

Harry Hermione and Neville stuck together, looking around, nervous and excited. They were walking down a dark dirt path, lined by tall pine trees. Looking up, they could see stars between the tree tops. After walking along this path for about 5 minutes, they turned a corner, and all gasped.

They were facing a large lake. A small pebble beach spread from the edge of the forest to the water in front of them, and circled the expanse of water. The forest they were standing in spread away to either side, reaching almost the entire way around the lake.

However, it was the large castle on the other side of the lake that was what the assembled students were staring at, amazed. Almost a mile away, it still seemed huge. Tall towers thrust upwards into the sky, and walkways spanned the grounds. A larger tower was situated in the middle, with smaller ones dotted around the outside. Leading away from the castle was a large grassy meadow, with various other buildings dotted around.

Hagrid headed off to the boats that were waiting on the beach just ahead of them, leading the stunned students to the small craft. Hagrid turned, calling over his shoulder "All righ', everyone in. No more'n three to a boat, mind you, 'n then we'll be off." The students quickly complied, talking animatedly among themselves. After everyone was seated in a boat, the craft sped away from the shore, without any propulsion. Harry turned to Hermione, and saw her buzzing in her seat.

"Isn't this amazing?!" she exclaimed happily, looking at him. "It makes it more real, doesn't it, seeing the castle?"

Harry smiled back at her, and Neville spoke up. "It does. I mean, I was feeling a bit nervous, like they'd made a mistake in telling me that I've got magic, but not now that I'm here. Nah, it just feels… right."

Harry and Hermione both nodded their agreement, and the trio turned to gaze at the castle again. Harry took this moment to study his new friends. Neville was about the same height as Harry, but his hair was straight, brown and came to below his ears. He had a round face, and cheerful blue eyes.

Hermione, on the other hand, was a bit taller than him. She had very frizzy shoulder-length brown hair, and a petite face. Her eyes were brown, and matched her hair perfectly. As he was examining her, she turned to look at him, smiling. He blushed slightly, and returned the smile.

They soon reached the other side of the lake, where they entered a small boat house. Disembarking – rather clumsily in Neville's case – they moved to stand outside the small building with the other students. Hagrid soon appeared with the last of the students, and they quickly walked up the shallow slope towards the castle. Hagrid lead them around the side, through a large courtyard with a fountain in the middle, and to some doors that were so large, they dwarfed Hagrid.

The large man reached up, and knocked on the door heavily.

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Please review.

Des.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclosure: I don't own any of the Harry Potter Books, or any of the characters. I'm just taking them for a ride.

* * *

The doors swung open, revealing a large hall. Ahead of the students was another set of large doors, beyond which they could hear animated conversations. To their left was a large stained glass window, depicting four crests. To the right of the doors was a set of two staircases, leading to other levels.

Standing ahead of the group was a tall woman, dressed in gold and red robes. She had black hair that was pulled back in a tight bun, and wore rounded glasses on her nose. She looked at the students before her, and then turned to Hagrid. When she spoke, she only reinforced Harry's opinion; this was not a woman to trifle with.

"Thank you Hagrid, I'll take them from here," the woman said commandingly.

"Righ' you are Professor McGonagall," Hagrid replied, turning and heading up the staircase to the right of the doors. Harry, Hermione and Neville watched the big man go, and then turned to look at the professor in front of them.

Professor McGonagall regarded the students appraisingly. "Welcome to Hogwarts. You are about to be sorted. This will take place in the Great Hall, where you will also eat at tonight's feast. You will then be escorted to your common room, where I trust you will go to sleep.

"The sorting of an individual may be one of the most important things that happens at Hogwarts, for whilst you are here, your house and those in it will be like your family. You will share a common room with them, sleep in the same dorm as them, have lessons with them, and learn from them.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own history, and outstanding wizards and witches have belonged to all. Any achievements that you might gain during your time here will earn you house points, and likewise any infractions that you commit will result in these points being removed. At the end of the year, a house cup will be awarded to the house with the most points. I am confident that each and every one of you will be a great member of whichever house you are sorted into."

This was met with furious conversation between the first years, whilst McGonagall watched, smiling slightly. She cleared her throat quietly after a few moments had passed, and then spoke again. "Follow me." She turned, and walked to the closed set of doors opposite the ones they had just walked through. Pushing them open, she continued into a large, bright chamber.

Hundreds of faces turned to look at them, and all conversation stopped. The students in the hall were sitting at four long tables, laden with gold plates and cutlery. The room was lit by thousands of candles that floated in the air above the students head. Looking up, Harry could see the sky. Hermione turned to him, whispering to him "It's not really the sky. It's been bewitched to look like it." Harry smiled, and whispered back "I know. Hogwarts, a History."

The first years were making their way down the hall towards the head table, were the staff were sat. In the middle stood an elderly man that Harry recognised from the chocolate frogs he had consumed earlier. It was Professor Dumbledore. Hagrid sat on the far end, next to a tiny man, the juxtaposition making the size difference all the more comical. Harry also spotted Professor Quirrell, sitting next to a tall man with dark hair. There were also others on the table that Harry could only guess at their identities.

When they reached the head table, McGonagall placed a short, four-legged stool. Upon this she placed an old, battered hat. Harry looked at it in bewilderment; what were they supposed to do with this? He turned, and saw all of the students in the hall staring at the old hat. Harry, a little puzzled, turned back. Nothing happened for a few moments, and then a rip near the brim opened like a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

You top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head,

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might be in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring and their chivalry,

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Harry relaxed, and released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He hadn't been sure what they'd have to do to be sorted into the different houses! Although he wasn't exceptionally worried about performing magic, he was much more comfortable not having to; he didn't act well under pressure.

Neville also seemed visibly relaxed. He turned to Harry, and said jokingly "I'm so pleased! The way everyone at home went on about it, they made it seem like a horrible ordeal. This is much better; I'm far less likely to mess up." Harry quietly agreed.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, and held up a scroll. Addressing the first years, she said "I will call your name. You will then step forward, and put on the hat. When you have been sorted, proceed to the relevant table."

"Hannah Abott." A rather short girl with blond hair in bunches stepped out of the line, and walked to the front. She sat down on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. It deliberated for a moment, before –

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table to the left of Harry exploded into cheers, and Hannah went to sit down, her uniform magically gaining a yellow crest.

"Susan Bones," Professor McGonagall called out, and another girl stepped out of the group and walked to the front. The hat was placed on her head, and –

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Susan quickly ran off to sit next to Hannah, to the cheers of the Hufflepuff table.

"Terry Boot"

"RAVENCLAW!" This time the table to the far right erupted into cheers. Terry walked off, taking his seat and shaking hands with a few of the Ravenclaw students.

"Mandy Brocklehurst," was also sorted into Ravenclaw, again to many cheers. The next first year, "Lavender Brown" became the first Gryffindor, and went to sit with her cheering housemates on the far left.

The first Slytherin was also sorted, with Millicent Bulstrode walking pompously off to join the table on the far right. Harry, even though he was not one to judge an entire group of people based on the acts of a few, was beginning to think that the House of Snakes was formed of rather pompous students.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley" next became the newest Hufflepuff. Harry had noticed that the hat was taking a bit longer to decide which house some first years belonged to than others. "Seamus Finnigan" wore the hat for almost half a minute before it finally called out "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione was next. Wishing her a whispered good luck, Harry pushed her gently forwards. She walked slowly to the wooden stool, before sitting down, and allowing Professor McGonagall to place the hat over her bushy hair. Whilst with some people the hat to an age to decide where to place people, some had their house decided almost immediately. Hermione was one of these. No sooner had the old battered hat touched her head then it loudly exclaimed "GRYFFINDOR!" Hermione quickly took off the hat, and handed it to McGonagall, before walking proudly over to the red and gold table. Sitting down, she turned to look at Harry, mouthing "Good luck."

Harry felt like he could use some luck. He felt terrified, afraid that he would end up in a terrible house, afraid that he would do something wrong, afraid he would lose his newfound friends. His first friends.

A few more names past as Harry fretted, and then Neville was called up. Like with Hermione, as soon as the hat touched his head it yelled "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry was feeling truly sick now. He watched, worried, as Neville walked off to join the House of Lions. The next few names passed in a blur – "Morag"… "Draco"… "Pavarti" … and then "Harry Potter."

Harry walked towards the stool nervously. Sitting down as instructed, he saw the four tables in front of him, students up and down the hall straining to look at him. Then the hat came down, obscuring his view.

Harry heard a small voice in his ear. "Hmmm. You are an interesting one. Lots of courage, that's obvious. You've got a lot of sense too, so that opens up other options as well. And you'll clearly do anything for your friends… Yes, you're a difficult one, Mr Potter." Harry just held on tightly to the chair in response, and suddenly, unbidden, Hermione and Neville popped into his head. "Hmmm," the hat said again. "Well, they do seem to care very much about you." A few seconds later, the hat called out "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry took the hat off carefully, giving it to Professor McGonagall, before walking happily to the loudly cheering Gryffindor table. Sitting down next to Hermione, he let out the breath he didn't realise he'd be holding in. He'd been so afraid of losing his friends before he'd even got to know them.

The sorting went on for another few minutes, but now that Harry had been sorted, he found it harder to pay attention. However, when Professor McGonagall removed the sorting hat and the chair, he turned this attention to the head table. Professor Dumbledore had stood up from his golden throne, and was walking around the table to stand at a tall wooden lectern adorned with a sleeping metal owl. As Dumbledore stood at the lectern, the owl awoke, shook its wings, and unfolded them to lie flat against the wood.

Dumbledore spoke to the amassed students, "Welcome, and to those of you in upper years, welcome back! Before we begin our lovely feast, I would like to use this opportunity to welcome the newest members of our staff. Professor Quirrell has agreed to take the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, replacing Professor Castor, who, after last year's antics, has decided to quit, in order to spend more time with amassing his collection of buttons.

"Now, I'm sure you're all extremely hungry, so I'll let you eat! Dig in!" And at that, Dumbledore clapped his hands twice, and the golden plates and platters and jugs filled with all manner of food. Harry looked up and down the table in astonishment: he hadn't heard anything about this in _Hogwarts: A History_!" And, looking at Hermione's amazed face, neither had she.

Looking up and down the table, Harry could see almost every food imaginable. There were slices of meat, marinating in different sources; pots of sausages; platters of sandwiches; bowls of salad; and Harry could even spot a small bowl of sherbet lemon. Filling large glass jugs was a purple liquid, which Harry eyed suspiciously. Turning to Neville, he enquired nervously about what it was.

"Oh, that's Pumpkin Juice. Dead nice really, if a bit odd at first. Go on, try some!" Harry, never one to turn his nose up at new things, poured himself a large glass. Taking a sip, he discovered exactly what Neville meant; it tasted slightly sweet, not at all what one would expect from a drink that came from pumpkin.

Harry quickly filled his plate, and began eating, whilst talking to his new friends. Harry found that he could talk to them quite easily, and that there was always something to talk about. Harry was talking to Hermione about the castle, and more specifically, the enchanted ceiling.

After everyone had finished, the plates and cutlery cleaned themselves, and the tables were bare for a few moments. Then the platters that had previously been filled with meats, breads and other savoury foods filled themselves with copious amounts of desert. Harry stared at the table in front of him - it all looked so good, how was he going to decide what to eat! He eventually settled on a piece of chocolate cake, and some ice cream.

After they had eaten their full, the plates once again cleaned themselves, and Dumbledore stood to talk to the students once more. "Well, that was pleasant. I hope you have all eaten your full, and enjoyed our feast. Now, off to bed! First years, please find your prefects, who will escort you to your common room."

Harry, Hermione and Neville stood up, and walked to where the first year Gryffindors were huddled. There was a tall, redheaded boy standing there, calling out at the assembled students. Once all of the newly sorted students were assembled, they headed off, walking up the massive staircase complex. Harry found himself once again looking around in wonder. The staircases were constantly in motion, moving from one direction to the other. However, this was not the thing that fascinated Harry, for there were thousands of pictures adorning the walls - and they were _moving._

Harry could see the people in the pictures moving from painting to painting, conversing - and most astonishingly, Harry could hear the conversations. It was like a larger version of the pictures on the back of the chocolate frog cards. Hermione, like him, was looking at the paintings with interest, whereas Neville was just walking on ahead. Quickly overcoming his amazement, Harry hurried to catch up to the group, pulling Hermione with him.

The group ascended several staircases, passing corridors that lead off on either side. Eventually they reached a painting of a rather large woman. At this, the prefect who had been leading them turned and spoke to them. "This is the Fat Lady. She guards the entrance to your common room. You must give her a password in order to enter the common room, and if you do not give her the password, she will not let you in. Therefore, remember it!" At this, Neville paled considerably. Now, for the time being your password is "Periwinkle". And at this, the painting of the Fat Lady swung inwards, allowing the students to step in.

The first years were standing in a small room, decorated in red and gold colours. There was a large fireplace to the right of the group, with a fire burning cheerfully in the grate. Dotted around were comfy armchairs, again in the Gryffindor colours. Opposite the portrait entrance was another door, with a staircase leading to a balcony above.

"Your dorms are upstairs. Girls to the right, boys to the left. Now bed! Classes start tomorrow morning, and if you're late, your teachers will dock points from our house."

The first years did as they were told. Harry and Neville bid Hermione a good night, and headed through the door to their dorm. They found their trunks had been placed at the bottom of their beds. Getting changed, they climbed into bed, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

The Sorting Hat's Song has been pulled directly from _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_. Because I can't rhyme for (insert swear word here).

I've received a lot – well two - reviews saying this. I'll answer it now. Yes, Hermione is supposed to be green eyed. My story, my rules.

RHoward Lawrence. Thanks for the advice, I've looked over the first part and I agree wholeheartedly. I've tried to do that with this section, let me know what you think.

Please review.

Des.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry awoke early the next morning, feeling refreshed after the long journey. He sat up and looked out from his four poster bed, surveying the room. Sleeping in the bed next to him was Neville, and on his other side the door. Between each of the four poster beds was a large window, and it was from this light streamed in, illuminating the room. The furnishings in the room were, as in the common room, the red and yellow of the Gryffindor crest.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed, and shuffled to his trunk. Opening it, he pulled out his Hogwarts uniform, and with it, walked down the staircase to the next door, where the bathrooms were. Taking a quick shower, he put his uniform back on, and walked down the stairs to the common room. There he saw Hermione sitting by the fire, reading her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ again. Sitting down next to her, he turned and smiled at her.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. "Waiting for someone?"

She returned his smile, and laughed gently. "Yes, as a matter of fact. And now that he's here, we can go."

Harry beamed, and the pair walked out of the door, and down to the Great Hall, and breakfast. Spotting Neville sitting on his own, they walked the length of the table to sit next to him. Hermione took some toast, buttered it, and then returned to reading. Harry smiled, and looked over and saw Neville doing the same with a thick Herbology textbook. Harry grinned at this, and pulled out his own book. He was reading one of the text books again, and he absentmindedly chewed on a sausage, reading another section on transfiguration.

It was a rather amused Professor McGonagall that found the group sitting there fifteen minutes later, still eating and reading. Clearing her throat quietly, the group looked up at her expectantly. The elderly witch smiled, and said "If you three can tear yourselves away from your books for a few seconds, I have your timetables here." Hermione jumped up, taking her timetable, with Harry following suit a few moments afterwards. Neville also took the parchment with his timetable on it, and the three friends read the list, excited.

Harry immediately saw that they had Potions with the first year Slytherin's first. His spirits quickly dropped. Although being well prepared for the lesson, he was in no hurry to put himself in close proximity to the students of the other house, especially not with potentially dangerous ingredients within close reach.

Harry finished reading the rest of his timetable, and continued reading his book for another 15 minutes. They had their first Transfiguration lesson after Potions, and he wanted to be prepared. Finishing his breakfast, and seeing that Hermione and Neville were still eating, he put down his book and studied them. Hermione seemed totally engrossed in her book, while Neville was more interested in his breakfast, only occasionally directing his attention at the Herbology book.

Neville soon finished his meal, Hermione finishing only a few minutes later. Looking down at his watch, Harry saw that it was almost time for first lesson. The trio headed out of the Hall, walking down the corridor that lead to the dungeons, which was were the Potions lessons were held.

The three friends soon found themselves in the dungeons below the castle, and from there quickly located the room where their potions lessons were to be held. It was a large chamber, illuminated by three narrow windows set into the thick walls, and by the light from small enchanted fires that burned beneath large, bubbling cauldrons. Tables were set up in groups around these cauldrons, and it was by these that their classmates were standing. Harry spotted Seamus and Dean from Gryffindor, along with several of the girls. Also occupying the room were the first year Slytherins. The children were mostly standing in house groups, with conversations springing up between the new students.

It was at this moment that the door swung open, and a tall, dark haired man strode in, his cloak billowing out behind him. Reaching the head of the class, he spun around and stared at the assembled students before him.

"I am Professor Snape, and I am to be your Potions Master," Snape said authoritatively, walking up and down between the desks. "I will not pretend that each of you have the skill to master the subtle art of potion making. I know that not all of you can see the beauty in this art; the way a potion may delicately thread its way through your skin, the liquid burning you from the inside; the subtle way in which one can hold off death, or make it race forwards to greet you; or the way that one can bring fame and fortune with just a single drop. However, as I am a teacher here, I must endeavour to teach. Therefore, can anyone tell me what it is that the Wolfsbane potion does?"

Snape spun around on the spot turning and looking directly at the table Harry, Hermione and Neville were occupying. "Ah, Mr Potter. Our new _celebrity_. Please, tell the class exactly what the Wolfsbane potion does?"

Harry looked up at the Professor, thinking frantically. Suddenly, he remembered; "The Wolfsbane potion is drunk by someone who is infected with lycanthropy. It allows them to retain their mind when going through a transformation."

Snape looked at him for a few moments, before turning and stalking off. "Correct." He said reluctantly. "One point to Gryffindor." Hermione beamed at Harry, before turning back to look at Snape.

"However, you have neither the skill nor the knowledge to brew this potion. Therefore, you will begin by brewing easier potions today. Turn to page 17 of your textbooks and begin brewing the boil cure potion you see there. You have 45 minutes."

The first years hurriedly opened their books to the instructed page, and began reading. Several quickly got up and fetched potions, and soon the air was filled with the smell of ingredients. Harry was working on a table with Neville and Hermione, and after a quick trip to the store room, he began grinding his snake fangs into a fine powder. Hermione was doing the same, but Neville seemed to be struggling with his, the mortar he was using skipping across the desk every time he pushed against it. Harry turned, and whispered to him. "Start at the tip, it's much easier. And try pushing down from above." Neville did as instructed, and grinned at Harry a few minutes later, holding up his bowl, which had a fine powder in the bottom. Harry smiled back, and returned to his potion.

The lesson quickly came to an end, and apart from one incident where Seamus's potion blew up in his face, it was largely uneventful. Harry and Hermione had helped Neville with his potion, and all three had managed to brew satisfactory - Snape's words - potions their first time. However, this did not stop Snape from giving them a large amount of homework; one foot on the properties of the ingredients in their textbooks, to be completed by the next lesson.

The three friends left the dungeons in high spirits, heading up the stairs to their first Transfiguration lesson. Neville was overjoyed that he hadn't messed up his potion, as he thought he would have. Harry and Hermione were quickly finding that his cheerfulness was infectious, and the group walked into Professor McGonagall's classroom a few minutes later bearing grins.

Harry and Hermione took the two tables at the front, with Neville choosing to sit behind them, next to Seamus. The rest of the students soon filled the available seats, chatting amicably between themselves whilst waiting for Professor McGonagall to appear. Harry took out his books, and surveyed the class. The Gryffindor's had Transfiguration alone with their head of house, and because of this Harry knew everyone in the room, if only in passing.

Harry returned his attention to the desk at the front of the class, noticing, for the first time, a large cat sitting on the desk. He blinked in surprise, and watched as the cat studied the class. As if noticing Harry's attention, the animal swivelled its head to look at the young boy. Then, without warning, it jumped forward off the desk, transitioning in mid-air into Professor McGonagall. The entire class gasped in surprise, and sat forwards in their seats, listening attentively.

"The subject of Transfiguration is one of the most difficult and complex that you will study during your time here. Those of you who do not follow instructions and mess around will leave this class and never return. You have been warned." At this Neville gave a small squeak of discomfort. Professor McGonagall looked at him sternly, before continuing to address the class. "However, Transfiguration is one of the most impressive and powerful of the magical fields you will be taught about at this school. It can be used to turn an object from one thing into another. Observe." And with this, she turned, and pointed her wand at her desk. With a loud crack, it immediately turned into a large pig, which, after "oinking" disgruntledly at the class, was turned back into a desk. The class were all very impressed. However, their smiles quickly vanished as soon as they discovered just how hard Transfiguration was. They had been tasked with turning a match into a needle – to little avail. By the end of the lesson only Harry and Hermione had managed to complete the transformation, with Neville managing to make his slightly shiny with instructions from Harry and Hermione. Seamus had managed to make his matchstick explode.

The rest of the day proceeded in a similar fashion, with Harry and Hermione helping Neville with his subjects. They studied the floating charm in Charms class. This was taught by Professor Flitwick, a tiny little man little more than three feet tall. He had to stand on a pile of books to see over the top of his lectern – a very rickety pile of books. He fell off at least three times during the lesson; once in astonishment when he reached Harry's name in the register.

Not all of the classes were up to the same standard. Defence Against the Dark Arts was the lesson most anticipated by the first year Gryffindors. However, it turned out to be a bit of a joke, with the class enduring an hour almost filled with Professor Quirrell's tales about exploits around the Wizarding World. To make matters worse, the Defence Classroom smelt heavily of garlic, which everyone swore was a deliberate attempt from Quirrell to ward off a vampire he met in Romania, and had been afraid of ever since. When Seamus, who was quickly making a name for himself as someone with a reputation of mucking up spells and causing explosions, questioned the timid Professor on where he had purchased his turban, Quirrell replied with a long story about alleviating a troubled African prince of a particularly frightening dragon. Needless to say, the class had quite a time picturing the small, timid man fighting off anything bigger than a fly.

Neville particularly liked Herbology class; taught by Professor Sprout, the classes focused on the care of magical plants and herbs. He was good at it as well; Herbology was one of the only lessons where Neville was assisting Harry and Hermione, not the other way around. On their first lesson, the sandy-haired boy managed to answer all of Professor Sprout's questions, earning Gryffindor 20 points, and resulting in Neville being asked to stay behind after the class had finished. He caught Harry and Hermione up in the corridor outside Charms, showing them a large book Professor Sprout had given him; _Scottish Plants and their Applications in Magical Studies_.

"This is great!" he'd remarked loudly. "I've never been good at anything in school before; my Gram's going to be so pleased! Harry, can I borrow Hedwig and send her a letter?" Harry had quickly agreed, eager to help the sandy-haired boy in any way that he could. The newfound courage that Neville seemed to possess was dramatically improving his mood, and Harry was becoming close friends with the young wizard.

Neville wrote his letter that night, and Harry accompanied him as he took it up to the Owlery. Once there, Harry called for Hedwig. The large snowy owl swooped down from the rafters, gliding silently to land on Harry's outstretched arm. Harry stroked her soft feathers for a few moments, before saying, "This is Neville, Hedwig. He has a letter he wants you to deliver, if that's okay?" The white bird looked at him appraisingly for a few seconds, before offering her leg to Neville. The boy quickly smiled, thanked the bird, and quickly tied the letter to its leg. Harry walked over to the window, and Hedwig, after giving the boys an affectionate nip, flew off into the gathering darkness. Harry and Neville stood watching her fly off until she vanished into the distance, only then turning and heading back to the castle.

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Please review.

Des.


	4. Chapter 4

This took a while to write...

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Harry began packing up his books, parchment and quills into his bag. The Gryffindor's had just had Transfiguration, the last lesson of the day, and all of the first years were eager to head off to the common room and have some down time. However, as Harry finished packing up his books, he heard Professor McGonagall call out, "A moment, Potter". Harry sighed, turning back to the professor.

"You guys go on ahead, I'll catch up to you later," he said, addressing Neville and Hermione. They complied, and left the classroom quickly, leaving Harry alone with the transfiguration teacher.

"Mr Potter, I have been told that the headmaster wishes to speak to you."

"Me? Why would Professor Dumbledore want to speak to me, Professor?"

"I don't know. I suggest that you could find out by going to his office and talking to him," She said, smiling.

"But I don't know where the headmaster's office is, Professor."

"And even if you did, you wouldn't be able to get in," said Dumbledore, who had just entered the classroom. Harry instantly stood up a little straighter, and looked at the Professor. "There's a password; good for security, but it does discourage visitors…"

"I was just about to bring young Mr Potter up to see you, Albus."

"Very kind of you Minerva, but as I am here, there is really no need." The elderly man smiled down at Harry, peering over his half mooned spectacles. "If you'll follow me Harry, we'll leave your esteemed teacher to get on with what is most definitely some very important work." He inclined his head at McGonagall politely, and walked out of the room, Harry following closely at his side.

The duo walked briskly through the sunlit hallways, passing students before they came to a large, ugly gargoyle. Dumbledore said, "Chocolate Frogs," in a clear voice, and the gargoyle jumped aside, the wall behind him splitting apart. Harry looked around Dumbledore's figure in wonder, as behind the wall was a stone staircase that was rotating and moving upwards into the air. Dumbledore looked around at Harry; "After you my dear boy".

Harry stepped onto the stair in front of him nervously, and found himself moving upwards smoothly. Dumbledore stepped on behind him, and Harry could hear the wall sliding shut with a low grinding noise. They were being propelled upwards quite quickly, leading Harry to assume that they were in one of the towers. After a short while, they arrived at a gleaming oak door with a large, brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. Dumbledore leaned around Harry and pushed open the door, revealing a large room.

It was comprised of three circular rooms, and had curved walls. Lining these were shelves filled with all manor magical apparatus. In the middle of the room was a large desk, behind which rose a balcony, and an archway that Harry assumed lead to the place where Dumbledore lived. Standing on a golden perch was a magnificent red plumed bird, which let out a call of greeting to Dumbledore – a deep, melodic note which immediately made Harry feel relaxed. Lining the walls were portraits of elderly witches and wizards, all of whom were talking quietly to each other, sleeping, or – to Harry's amusement – playing table tennis, the ball bouncing from one picture frame to the other.

Dumbledore stepped forward, and took a seat behind his desk. Harry stood for a moment longer, continuing to look around the room in wonderment. However, he was pulled out of his daze by Dumbledore, who cleared his throat quietly. Harry looked at him, and saw that he was smiling up at Harry. "Would you like a seat?" he inquired, quietly amused.

"Ah, yes, that would be nice, thank you." One immediately appeared in front of the desk, and Harry sat down in it, looking at Dumbledore expectantly.

"You must be wondering why I have asked that you come and see me Harry. I must confess, it is partly due to my own interest, and partly because I have something to give you. But first, how are you my boy?"

Harry started – he hadn't expected that he had been called here for a chat. Momentarily confused, he replied, "I'm fine sir. What about you?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "How nice of you to ask. Not many people do nowadays – I suppose they feel that they must complete their business as quickly as possible and let me get on with my day. A pity - I do enjoy a nice chat. But to answer your question, I am well, quite well for someone of my considerable age.

"However, as nice as it is to engage in idle chit chat, I didn't ask you here solely to talk. I have something to give you. Or rather, I have something to return to you, for it was your father's." He reached under the desk and pulled out a large bundle of silvery cloth. He placed it on the table, and slid it across into Harry's hands.

Harry looked down excitedly. He didn't have anything that belonged to his parents – before he'd seen the money that they had left him, he'd believed that all of their possessions must have been either destroyed the night that they had died, or been sold off in the following years. Harry's aunt and uncle had never shown the slightest interest in telling Harry about his parents, and had even lied to him about them – he'd never expected that they would have kept anything to remind them of the Potter's, much less shown it to Harry. But now he held something in his hands that had belonged to his father. It awoke a deep sense of longing in Harry, a need to know more about them.

Harry was about to pick it up and see what it was, but Dumbledore laid a hand on the bundle. "Might be best to wait for Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom, don't you think Harry?" Harry stopped his hand close to the bundle. Slowly, he nodded, and then looked at Dumbledore.

"Sir, may I ask a question?"

"You already have, but you may ask another."

"What were they like? My parents? I've never heard anything about them – I was beaten every time I asked about them at home…"

Dumbledore looked momentarily shocked, but soon regained his composed look. "I am sorry that you knew nothing of your parents Harry, deeply so. I'll try and answer your questions as best I can. However, I can see this taking longer than I had planned, so we will need some food." With a snap of his fingers, a platter of sandwiches appeared on the table in front of Harry. "Much better. Now, where to begin…

"I had the liberty of being headmaster during your parent's education at this school. Your father was an incredible able wizard, but not as academic as your mother, nor as hard working. He was friends with a group of three other boys – inseparable young lads. Wherever your father was, his friends would be too. Caused quite a bit of mayhem and trouble too – much like the Weasley twins.

"James's best friend was Sirius Black. Also in the group were Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Peter is now dead, Sirius Black is outside of the country and Remus currently lives in London.

"Your mother, on the other hand, and few friends, preferring instead to focus her time on studies. She was, much as your friend Miss Granger is, the brightest witch in her year – best in class for everything. Although she didn't have many friends, those that she did have were even more precious to her. Two stick out in my memory – Alice Nuren, and Severus Snape."

"But sir, I don't understand. If my mother and Professor Snape were friends, why does he dislike me so much?"

"Because whilst your mother was friends with Severus, your father and him were constantly at each other's throats. I believe that he sees you as James's son more than Lily's." Harry sat in silence for a few moments, soaking in the information. "I am sorry Harry; I have no more information for you. I suggest that if you wish to find out more about your parents, you ask your teachers. The likelihood is that they either went to school with them, or taught them during their time here. I am sorry I could not tell you more."

"Don't apologise sir! You've told me more than I knew before, lots more. Thank you Professor."

"You are most welcome my boy. Now, I suggest you return to Gryffindor tower – your friends are probably wondering what has been keeping you." Harry stood to leave, but momentarily paused.

"Sir," he said, then stopped. "Yes Harry. Is there something further you wish to discuss with me?"

"It's more of an observation, Professor. Professor Quirrell doesn't seem to be teaching us much – he usually just tells us stories of adventures he's been on, but when we ask him any more about them, he is too timid to tell us."

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a few moments, before nodding. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention Harry. I'll look into it in due course."

"Thank you sir." Harry stood, picked up the bundle of slivery cloth in front of him, took one last sandwich, and left the room.

It was dark by the time Harry managed to get back into the Gryffindor Common room. Neville and Hermione were sitting in the chairs by the fireplace, having obviously just eaten. They looked up when he walked in, and then jumped up to say hello. Harry quickly filled them in on what had occurred – his meeting with Professor Dumbledore, the gift of the cloak, and the information about his parents. He saw Neville start when he heard mention of Alice Nuren, and made a mental note to ask him about it when he next had a moment.

Both friends seemed very interested when he showed them the cloak, and encouraged him to try it out. Harry barely needed the encouragement; picking it up, he swung it around his shoulders. He heard his friends gasp, yet he felt no different. However, when he looked down at his body, he couldn't see anything. "That's an invisibility cloak Harry!" Neville exclaimed excitedly.

"I got that from the fact I'm invisible, Neville," Harry said, laughing. "What's so special about it?"

"They're really rare, and really expensive. I think my dad had one, but then he… You know." He looked down, sadly.

"Neville, did you know Alice Nuren? You seemed startled when I mentioned her."

"She's my mother," Neville said, close to tears. Hermione immediately moved to comfort him, putting her arm around him. Neville shrugged her off quickly. "I just need some time alone, I think," he said, just before taking off up the staircase to the dorms. Harry moved to go after him, but was stopped by Hermione "Give him some time Harry. He's obviously upset, and as much as you want to help you might not be able to."

Harry looked up the stairs, wanting to comfort his friend, but didn't make any movement. He saw the wisdom in Hermione's words, and knew that it wouldn't help. Sighing, he slumped back down into the comfy armchair.

Harry awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the curtains, illuminating the circular room. He looked over and saw that Neville was already out of bed, his covers thrown back. Harry quickly dressed, and headed down the stairs to the common room. Seeing it empty, he shrugged, and crossed to the portrait hall, heading down the large staircase, in the direction of the Great Hall. He quickly located Neville once he had entered; the sandy-haired boy was sitting halfway down the Gryffindor Table, eating his breakfast with one hand and reading through a Herbology book with the other. Harry walked the length of the table, and sat down in front of Neville, helping himself to some food from the platters around him whilst waiting for a moment to talk to his friend.

"I'm sorry Harry," Neville said suddenly, surprising Harry. "I know it was silly of me, I know I should be used to it now. You obviously are..." He trailed off.

"No, it makes sense Neville. I know that I don't come across as missing my parents, and for the most part I don't; I didn't know them well enough to miss them terribly. But you did know yours; it must be different for you."

Neville nodded, agreeing. "It's not only that. They... they're not dead." Harry looked at him, shocked. Whenever Neville had spoken about his parents it was always in the past tense, as if they were dead. It was shocking - to say the least - to find out they were still alive. "I don't really want to talk about them Harry, so if you could just keep this between us..."

"Yeah, absolutely Neville."

"Thanks Harry." Neville said, smiling now. The two friends continued eating their breakfast in silence until Hermione came to join them. Murmuring quiet "Hellos", the three friends ate their breakfast in companionable silence, broken only by the crunching of toast and the subdued talking of the other students who were trying to get an early start. The trio finished eating their breakfast, and then headed out of the hall... and directly into the path of Snape.

"Where are you three going in such a hurry?" Snape asked softly. "People might become… suspicious."

"We're going to the library, to do the homework that you set us." Neville said defensively.

"I dislike your tone, Longbottom. One point from Gryffindor. Now, follow me. Potter, Granger, you too."

"May we ask why?" Harry replied, confused.

"I don't have to answer to you Potter. However, it may make things proceed more quickly. The Headmaster has instructed me to tutor you in Defence Against the Dark Arts. And whilst this idea fills me with distain, if our esteemed headmaster believes that this is the best thing to do, who am I to argue." The trio understood his not so subtle meaning; I have been told to do this, you need to do this too.

Snape turned and headed off, not checking to see if they followed him. He led them up the stairs, instead of down into the dungeons, Harry Neville and Hermione exchanging looks of confusion over this. Navigating the maze of corridors that one had to traverse to reach any part of the castle, they reached a classroom on the second floor Transfiguration corridor. Snape flicked his wand and the door unlocked, swinging back on its hinges. Snape walked in and the three friends followed, finding themselves in a long dark room, windows interspaced with bookshelves on the opposite wall. A long slightly raised platform reached down the room.

Hermione immediately headed to the bookshelves, perusing the collection. Snape scowled at this, staring at her. "Miss Granger, curb your schoolgirl enthusiasm for one moment. I wish to get this over and done with as quickly as possible, so that I can return to doing more meaningful things than teaching miscreants who think they know better than their superiors." Hermione stepped away from the shelves, chastened.

Addressing all of them now, Snape spoke. "This is where these lessons will take place. I am to take you for one hour at this time every Saturday, and for an hour every day. I will tell you what time we will meet the day before." Gesturing with his wand, Snape conjured three simple desks in front of the large ornate one that sat at one end of the room. Harry Hermione and Neville all took a seat, looking at Snape expectantly.

"I will begin by teaching you how to duel. We shall begin with etiquette." Snape then began to run through a dizzyingly long list of instructions and expectations that one had to adhere to when duelling. After what seemed like forever, but could have only been at most fifteen minutes, he ended. "Do any of you have any idiotic questions?" Appraising each of them in turn, he sneered. "Good. Now, as you can see behind you, there is a duelling platform. Two of you will practice these techniques, starting from the bow."

They made their way over to the duelling platform. "Granger, you will not participate in this round. Watch, and tell them what moronic and obvious mistakes they are making. Now begin."

Harry and Neville took their places at either end of the platform. They walked towards each other, then bowed. Turning around, they quickly paced twelve steps, and then stopped. Turning on their foot, they faced their opponent, each pointing their wand at the wizard opposite them.

"Perfect guys!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, just as Snape called out, "Passable." Hermione rounded on Snape. "What did they do wrong? Their timing was perfect, and their posture -"

"Was highly lacking. Longbottom shuffles around like a shrunken troll, and Potter swaggers around as if he were a master. One point from Gryffindor for answering back." Hermione stared at him, affronted. He turned back to the platform, and spoke to Neville and Harry. "Again." Harry and Neville sighed, and returned to their starting positions.

"That, was a complete waste of time." Neville said, slumping down on the large armchair in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. "I mean, it's nice to know that stuff, and really interesting, but I still find it a bit odd that Snape is taking us and teaching us that. Quirrel is pretty terrible, but I don't understand how Dumbledore knows that... Unless you mentioned it Harry?"

Harry thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore the previous day. "I mentioned it to him, but I never said that I wanted private tutoring... He must have thought of that on his own."

Hermione piped up, "Well at least we are getting some proper teaching." After receiving looks from her two friends, she elaborated. "Well I don't know about you two, but I know a lot more about duelling than I did this morning, and we would have probably never learnt that in Quirrell's lessons. Say what you like about Snape's 'bedside manner', he knows what he is talking about when it comes to Against the Dark Arts." Harry thought for a moment, and then nodded; he _had _learnt quite a bit in the lesson, and he was much more interested in duelling now than he had been in before. Continuing, Hermione added, "Now we better get on with what we were going to do before Snape grabbed us. Library gentlemen?"

Harry gathered up his things to join her, and looked at Neville, who had remained where he was. "Actually, I have something planned for now... Professor Sprout has given me some a plot in the greenhouses, and I've been meaning to check on the plant's I've set up there. Meet you guys later?"

"Sure Neville," Harry replied, pleased that his friend had found something that interested him. Hermione looked torn for a second, half of her appearing poised to drag him along to the library to do the homework with them. In the end, however, she smiled, and nodded her head. "Have fun Neville, see you later." She smiled, and waved to him as he walked out of the Common Room door.

"You're not going to run out on me too, are you Harry?" She said, turning to him with a mock pout on her face. Harry looked contemplative for a second, laughing at her disgruntled expression. She grabbed his arm, looping hers through it, and walked him to the door. "Come on Potter, quicker you start the quicker you're finished! Then maybe I'll let you have some fun." She stuck her tongue out at him, laughing and pulling him down the corridor more quickly.

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Please review.

Des


	5. Chapter 5

Autumn soon fell on the grounds around the castle. Leaves turned from green to red to brown, falling from the trees to lie in large piles that gusted around the courtyards. Showers became more frequent, and on the occasion when Harry, Hermione and Neville visited Hagrid, they had to wrap up warm. Warming themselves with milky tea served in goblet sized cups, they chatted away into the evenings, Hagrid walking them back to the castle under the protection of the large pink umbrella that he carried.

With the turn of the season came one of the castle's most anticipated holidays; Halloween. The wizarding world celebrated this occasion much more impressively than Muggles, armed with the knowledge of real monsters and magical beings that had taken this holiday as their own; more so now than in the past, for it was at Halloween when Voldemort had finally been defeated. The Hogwarts ghosts also played a prominent part in the festivities, as they were one of the magical groups that were said to haunt Muggles and scare them; never mind that most of the Hogwarts ghosts were as normal as the living.

Harry, however, was not as excited for the festivities as everyone else. Neville and Hermione noticed him becoming more withdrawn the closer they got to the holiday. He started missing breakfast, disappearing from his bed before his friends awoke, and returning to the common room after everyone else. Nothing that his friends tried was able to make him tell them what was wrong; he'd always deny any problem. Needless to say, this didn't much reassure them.

One day, Harry awoke early, as he had been recently. He laid in bed for a few minutes, listening to the silence. The sun had yet to rise, and as such the room was shrouded in a gloomy darkness. Sighing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and shrugged on his clothes. He quickly grabbed his cloak, and headed down the spiral staircase to the common room. He usually wandered the castle at this early hour, not looking where he was going, just thinking. This morning he headed down the large staircase outside the Gryffindor common room, making his way to the Entrance Hall. He headed right, out through the large doors, and out into the cold Scottish morning. Making his way through the grounds, he headed to Hagrid's hut.

Harry knocked on the doors of the small building loudly, rubbing his hands together in the chill air. After getting no response, he knocked again, more loudly. Hearing no movement from inside, he headed around the hut to the large vegetable patch at the back. Spotting Hagrid's large form on the fringe of the Forbidden Forrest, he walked over. The large man looked up and waved at him, smiling.

"Harry! What are yeh doing here at this time? You should be in bed."

"I haven't been sleeping well," Harry said by way of explanation. "Anyway, I've been meaning to come and see you – we haven't talked in a while. Aren't I allowed to want to talk to a friend?" Hagrid smiled at this.

"All righ' then, come on. We'll go an' have a cup o' tea, warm yeh up. Yeh must be freezin'!"

Harry shrugged, and followed Hagrid back to the hut. Sitting down, Harry looked around in amazement. He'd never been in Hagrid's house before, and he was amazed by the cluttered space. Pheasants and some kind of large rodent that Harry hadn't seen before hand from the rafters, and a large bed sat in one corner. Hagrid filled a kettle from the sink on the side of the hut, and hung it over a large fire that was burning brightly in a fireplace.

"So, how's yeh classes been Harry?" Hagrid asked, pouring a large cup of tea for the young boy, before seating himself at the table. They chatted for a while about Harry's classwork, his lessons with Snape and his new friends. Hagrid seemed pleased that he had made friends, and invited him to bring them down next time. They talked for almost an hour, before the sun rose and Hagrid looked at his watch.

"Blimey Harry, is that the time? I'd better get back ter work! No, you stay there, finish yeh tea. I'll just go and do a bit more work, an' then I'll walk yeh up to the castle." The large man got up from the table, and pulled on his coat before heading out into the cold October air.

Harry finished his tea quickly, before walking around the small hut. He spotted a newspaper on the side and started to scan the front page, waiting for Hagrid to come back. He'd just started reading an article when he heard Hagrid's footsteps crunching up the gravel path outside the hut. Pulling on his cloak, he opened the door and stepped out into the cold air – where he was immediately met by a large wall of pumpkin.

"Come on then Harry, we haven't got all mornin'."

"Hagrid, let me help you with that," Harry said quickly, pulling out his wand. Waving it precisely, the topmost pumpkin floated off the top of the stack, revealing Hagrid's bushy face.

"Thanks Harry, real help!" Harry smiled, and headed off up to the castle, floating the pumpkin in front of him whilst Hagrid followed behind, chin held down over the pile of orange fruit he was carrying in an attempt to stop them falling over.

Entering through the large doors, Harry saw that other students walking around. He turned to give Hagrid the pumpkin he was carrying when he heard a voice; "Trying to make more friends, Potter?" Harry sighed, and looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing at the top of the stairs. "Or do you just feel sorry for the overgrown oaf." Harry stiffened, but before he could answer back Malfoy had continued, "Because if I were you, I wouldn't be bothered, it's not like he appreciates, or even understands it, anyway. Then again, if I were you, I wouldn't fraternise with the likes of him, or Granger. Filthy Mudblood shouldn't even be allowed into this school."

Harry scowled, and his already bad mood worsened. He opened his mouth to reply, before Hagrid spoke up. "Now listen here! I don' know what you think yeh playin' at, but I'm a member of staff 'ere, and I don' like yeh tone! Now scram, before I get Professor McGonagall." Malfoy paled at this, and pushed past Hagrid and Harry before heading into the Great Hall.

"Thanks Hagrid!" Harry said happily.

"Yeh welcome Harry, any time. Now go, I need to drop these off with Professor Flitwick. Thanks for your help, and next time you visit bring yeh friends too." The large man headed into the hall, still carrying the stack of pumpkins, Harry following close behind. He quickly spotted Neville and Hermione, and walked over to sit next to them.

"Morning."

"Good morning," Hermione replied smiling at him, pleased to see he was eating with them again. Neville also cheerfully greeted Harry, before returning to eating his breakfast and examining a small potted plant he had taken to carrying around. Harry shook his head, amused, and helped himself to breakfast.

A little further down the Gryffindor table, a set of redhead twins sat in hushed concentration, bent over a large piece of parchment. A paper sat next to them, half opened. Harry spoke up, "Hey, can I borrow that paper?" The twins glanced at him, grunting, and then performed a double take.

"Harry Potter?" They spoke in unison, looking at him with identical looks of amazement on their faces. Harry smiled, and nodded slightly. The twins' mouth's dropped as they looked at him. "Wicked."

"So, may I have the paper… I'm sorry; I don't know your name."

The redheaded boys stood quickly, bowing to Harry. "I'm Fred," said the one on the right, turning to his sibling before tipping his head in a slight bow, "And I'm George!" said the other, repeating the action to his brother. "Fred and George Weasley, Pranksters' Extraordinaire, at your service." They both topped imaginary hats at him, before sitting back down. Harry grinned, before pointing at the paper. They nodded in synchronicity, before returning to their quite conversation.

Harry flicked through the paper, looking for the article he had begun reading in Hagrid's hut. Finding it quickly, he read through it, before turning to Neville and Hermione. "Look at this," he said, holding up the paper for them to see. The article bore the title "GRINGOTTS' BREAK IN," and was accompanied by a small picture showing a severe looking goblin standing in front of a familiar looking vault. Neville looked shocked.

"I've never known anyone to break into Gringotts before! The goblins must be really angry; they always said that it was impossible to break in."

"Not only that, but I know this vault. This is the one that Hagrid and I visited on the day that I went to get my school supplies."

"What was in it?" Hermione asked.

"Not a lot. There was only a small package, about this big." Harry held his fingers apart. "Could have been anything. Hagrid said it was top secret though, so it must have been important…"

"I can't think of many magical items that are that small. Might be interesting to do some research though." Hermione said, smiling at Harry. Neville tried to look interested, and failed miserably.

"You know you two are my best friends, but I think I'll give this one a pass. I don't share the passion for reading that you two do." Harry and Hermione just smiled at him, before returning to their meals.

The day passed quickly, and soon it was time for the much anticipated Halloween feast. Harry Neville and Hermione all headed down to the Great Hall from the Common Room, which had been decorated for the event. The pumpkins that Harry and Hagrid had brought into the castle had replaced the candles that usually floated in the air above the tables, and animated suits of armour and skeletons sat at the tables, listening amicably to the conversations surrounding them. The three friends sat down at the long Gryffindor table, chatting between themselves about the day. After a few minutes, Dumbledore stood, and the hall fell silent.

"Happy Halloween! I hope you will all enjoy these festivities, and join me in what I am sure will be a lovely meal. However, before we fill ourselves with warm food and enjoy the festivities, I would like to remind why exactly we are here.

"Ten years ago, the country was in chaos. Voldemort had declared war on the Wizarding world, and all was not well. The losses were great, and hope seemed like a long distant luxury. Many of you may have lost parents, or other family members to this war." Harry noticed the Weasley twins look at each other sadly when they heard this. "In remembrance of those who are no longer with us, I would like you to all join me in a minute of silence."

The hall was silent. Harry could see people all up and down the tables sitting with their heads bowed, quietly thinking of those that they had lost, or never had the chance to get to know. Neville was sitting quietly, staring off into the distance, whilst Hermione – Hermione was staring at Harry, a sad little frown on her face. Harry looked at her for a moment, before turning back to Dumbledore, who was standing with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Thank you. One often forgets that the most powerful magic is memory. Now, on with the festivities!" And with that the gleaming golden platters that were laid out on the table were filled with a bounty of food.

They ate quickly, chatting quietly among themselves. Neville struck up a conversation with a ghost that was visiting the castle for the holidays, quietly discussing the work that Neville had been working on at the request of Professor Sprout. However, half an hour into the feast, Harry swung himself around, and slipped out of the Hall, unnoticed. Hermione watched him go, frowning.

Harry headed up the spiral staircase outside, rising three floors before leaving the main tower. He navigated several corridors before coming to a door. He opened it and slipped inside, unaware that he was being followed.

Harry was standing in the long room where Snape taught them Defence. He walked the length of the room and pulled a chair up to face the window, and sat down, looking out at the rain in silence. A few minutes after this, the door opened again with a loud creak. Harry turned and saw Hermione looking at him. He gestured beside him and she pulled up a chair, sitting down.

Hermione spoke, her voice small. "What's wrong Harry? I know you keep saying that it's nothing, but I know that something is wrong." She sniffed. "You've ignored us for the past week, you haven't turned up for meals, and you haven't been getting enough sleep. I can't speak for Neville, but I've been worried sick!" Softening slightly, she continued. "What's wrong Harry? You know you can talk to us, we're your friends."

"I know Hermione, and I'm really sorry I've been distant this past week. It's just I don't much enjoy Halloween. Tonight everyone is cheerful and happy and celebrating, and I just want to hide myself away and not speak to anyone.

"It's been ten years Hermione, ten years since Voldemort killed my parents. And yet people here are still celebrating his death. You can imagine how that makes me feel." Harry looked down at his feet, feeling stupid for a second. "I know I should be over it by now, but I'm not..."

"Why? Why should you be over it?"

"My uncle and aunt used to beat me every time I asked about them. I remember one Halloween in particular. I was seven, and my uncle was in a particularly bad mood - some deal had gone wrong at work, I don't remember what exactly. I was in the kitchen cooking for them when I burned something or dropped something - I really can't remember. Anyway, the next thing I remember was I he grabbed me, and hit me, and then I was outside and it was so cold. I tried to get back in but all of the doors were locked, and all of the windows too. I had to stay out there all night, and when I got up in the morning I still couldn't get back in until he came outside, dragged me back inside and yelled at me for not making him breakfast in time. From then on, it became a sort of annual thing; lock the freak in the garden if he did anything wrong.

"I didn't try and get anything wrong after that. I didn't ask about my parents, I didn't show them anything that would make me vulnerable."

Hermione was silent. Harry looked at her, surprised to see tears spilling down her cheeks. She sniffled, and wrapped her arms around Harry's small form, burying her head in his shoulder. They stood like that in silence for a few minutes, watching the rain stream down the windows. The quite atmosphere was broken by Hermione's quite voice. "I'm so sorry you had to suffer that Harry. I can't imagine what it was like... I'm sorry." Her voice hardened. "I promise you, I'll make it so that you don't have to go back there, Dumbledore can't force you to. There's nothing in the law that says he has any right to…" She trailed off, looking down at her hands.

"Thank you Hermione," Harry spoke so softly, Hermione could hardly hear him. "It means a lot to hear you say that." The two friends stood there for another few minutes, before Hermione looked at her watch. "I'm going to go back to the feast, grab some desert. Do you want to come with me?"

Harry shook his head slightly. "I think I'll stay here for the time being 'Mione, but thanks anyway." Hermione smiled at the nickname, before heading off, waving to Harry slightly as she went.

Harry slumped back down in the chair. He felt much better for talking to Hermione, almost as if he had shared some deep, annoying secret with someone else. Needless to say, it was a great weight off his shoulders.

Harry sat there for another fifteen minutes in peace, before he heard the door slam open, a panting Neville flying into the room. "Harry, Hermione! Troll! In the dungeon!" He panted heavily, leaning on his knees.

Harry got to his feet and ran over. "Slow down Neville. What's wrong?"

"There… there's a troll… in the dungeon." He panted. "Had to… get you and… Hermione…"

"Hermione left about ten minutes ago Neville."

The boy looked up at him, aghast. "You mean she's not here?"

"No, she was heading back to the Great Hall."

"She never made it there, Harry, I'm sure of that."

Harry swore, and pushed past Neville, heading down the stairs. If Hermione was heading down for dinner, which way would she go? Harry thought for a moment, before heading off. He took a left, and then a right, traversing the old building quickly, Neville on his tail. They rounded a corner and saw Fred and George heading towards him, pouring over a large sheet of parchment. "Hey Harry! We were just heading back to the Common Room, when we saw you running around at top speed. Thought we'd come and see what's got you in such a huff."

"Someone's let a troll into the castle, and we can't find Hermione!" The redheads looked shocked, twin gazes looking down at the parchment.

"What's that? Come on guys, we don't have the time to stand around!"

"Harry, stop." Harry stopped pacing and looked at Fred – or was it George – angrily. "This is a map of Hogwarts. It shows everyone inside the castle." He held it up for Harry to see. "See, here are us." He pointed at four sets of footprints standing on the third floor corridor, each with names floating beside them. George continued to scan the map, before announcing a triumphant "Ah ha! Found her!" Harry looked at the indicated portion of the map, seeing a small set of footprints and the name "Hermione Granger" in a small bathroom on the second floor. Grabbing the map, much to the twin's disgruntled yells, he sprinted off, consulting the map every so often to check which way he needed to go. After only a few minutes, he reached the corridor that the girls' toilet opened onto - and skidded to a stop when he heard a quiet shuffling sound. Peaking around the corner, he saw the silhouette of a large creature standing in the corridor.

"Crap." Harry thought, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily. He looked around the corner again, and saw the troll playing with the chandelier, back to him. Folding the map up, he shoved it in his back pocket, before sprinting across to the entrance to the girl's toilet's whilst the troll's back was turned. Pulling the door quickly shut behind him, he called out.

"Hermione?"

"Harry?!" came the hissed reply. "What on earth are you doing in here?! This is the girls' bathroom, in case you haven't noticed." Hermione's voice originated from one of the cubicles that ran along one side of the small room. Harry began walking along the row of cubicles, checking each one.

Harry hissed back, trying to keep his voice down. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a troll outside!" Hermione gave a small squeak at this, before stopping herself. Harry found the compartment she was sat in, and swung the door open. Hermione gave another small squeak, before pulling him into the compartment and closing and locking the door. "A troll? Are you sure?!"

"No Hermione, I don't think it is a troll. It's probably just an overgrown sixth year. What was I think of?!" Harry replied sarcastically, still keeping his voice down so as not to alert the troll. "Seriously Hermione, we have to get out of here, and quickly. When I last saw it, it was playing with the chandelier. That won't keep it amused for long!"

Hermione nodded quickly, before unlocking the door and stepping past him. "We'll have to be quiet; trolls are notoriously hard to injure, and we really don't want to have to fight our way out!"

"I gathered that Hermione, thank you," Harry replied dryly. They tiptoed to the door, before opening the door a crack. It squeaked loudly, until Hermione pointed her wand at the hinges, whispering a soft "silencio". Harry looked at her, surprised at the advanced level of spell. She blushed. "I read ahead a little." Harry shook his head slightly, and then continued to open the door until the gap was large enough for them to push their heads out.

"Harry."

"Yes Hermione?"

"There's no troll here. This corridor is completely empty!"

"There was a troll here earlier! It was big, and it smelt bad!"

"How do you lose a 12 foot high magical being..." Hermione mused to herself, before addressing Harry again. "Well it's not here now, is it? Come on, let's go!"

However, as they rounded the corner they quickly found out where the troll had disappeared to. It was currently standing through the window, but when it saw them it turned. The troll roared, and raised the club it was holding. Hermione froze, leaving Harry to act. Throwing up a hasty shield that the troll's club smashed against, he yelled at Hermione to do something. This snapped her back into action, and she quickly dropped into a crouch, firing off a stunning spell that Snape had taught them. This didn't seem to help much, as the troll just roared again, this time swinging the club at the small pink thing that had fired light at him. Again the club was stopped by Harry's shield.

Shouting at Hermione to cast a shield, Harry desperately thought. They hadn't been taught anything about trolls - probably due to Quirrell's terrible teaching methods - and Snape had evidently thought that they wouldn't be facing off against a troll anytime soon, and hadn't thought to teach them anything that would work against them. Charms quickly crossed Harry's mind, one in particular. Stepping out from behind Hermione, Harry yelled "Incarcerous!" Thick ropes flew out of the end of his wand, binding the troll's arms together. The club slipped out of its grip as it struggled against the bonds, dropping to the floor beside it. The troll struggled some more, before letting out another loud roar, just in time to almost flatten the teachers that had just rounded the corner.

Professor McGonagall was the first to round the corner, and took in the scene quickly. Her mouth slowly fell open at the sight of the two first years, and the large, bound troll. Quickly regaining her composure, she walked past Harry and Hermione and, waving her wand, caused the troll to keel over, unconscious. She then walked back to where the rest of the staff were standing around Harry and Hermione, and looked at them pointedly. They had never seen her so angry or surprised. "What were you thinking?! First years, taking on a full grown mountain troll, I've never heard of anything like it! Don't you know that you could have been killed? Did that thought ever cross your mind? Well?"

"It's my fault, Professor," Hermione said quickly. McGonagall turned to her, looking surprised.

"Your fault? I must admit, I find myself bamboozled. I would never imagine you being behind an attempt to take down a troll on your own."

"It wasn't like that Professor, not at all."

"Then how, pray tell, was it?"

"I was coming back from talking to Harry, and I needed to go to the toilet. I didn't know that there was a troll on the loose; I didn't find out until Harry came and found me. He told me about the troll, and then we came outside it was right outside. He was the one to use the Incarcerous charm on it. If he hadn't been concerned for my safety, he wouldn't have come to rescue me, and neither of us would have been put in danger. I'm sorry, Professor"

The elderly witch looked at both of them quickly, before speaking. "I don't know why you weren't at the Halloween feast, but since participation isn't mandatory, it isn't my place to ask. But Mr Potter, you shouldn't have been running around the castle without a member of staff when you knew full well there was a troll on the loose." Harry looked at his shoes. "However, in light of your quick thinking on subduing the monster, and your selfless actions with regards Miss Granger, I will award you 10 points. Now, I see no reason for you not to return to your common room – you will find your friends there, along with some of the food from the feast." She walked past them to where Professors Dumbledore, Snape and Flitwick were standing, quickly engaging the Headmaster in quiet conversation. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and then headed off to the Gryffindor common room, Professor Flitwick squeaking out praise of Harry's Incarcerous charm.

It was a confused and subdued Harry and Hermione that stepped through the common room porthole soon afterwards. Harry was still struggling to understand how they had managed to get out of trouble so easily. In fact, he was so focused on this issue that he hadn't noticed that Hermione had been just as silent as he had been the whole journey back to the common room.

Neville called the pair over from where he was seated at a table with the Weasley twins. They headed over, before being battered by a flurry of questions. Harry filled them in quickly in between bites of food. He made to give Fred and George the map back, but they waved him off.

"We've thought about it, and whilst that really is an impressive tool –"

"One that we really are loath to part with, mind you –"

"We've decided to let you keep it."

"Use it well, and remember, when you're done –"

"Wipe it. Or anyone could get a peek."

"How do you do that? You never included any instructions!" Harry replied indignantly.

"That, you'll have to find out on your own, Harry my boy," Fred replied.

"However, we will do this for you." George put the tip of his wand against the paper, and said "Mischief Managed." The various footsteps and inked in markings disappeared from the paper. Harry sighed, decided it wasn't worth arguing with the Twin's about something they had obviously made their mind up on, and tucked the now clean parchment into his bag.

The quintet sat around for a while longer, chatting whilst their other classmates slowly headed up to bed. Soon Harry and Hermione were the only people still sitting in the common room; Fred and George had left thirty minutes earlier, citing the need to complete a Potion's essay that was due in the following day – something that Hermione had wrinkled her nose at - and Neville had left just after that. The two friends sat in silence, Harry staring into the fire absently and Hermione twisting the end of her hair around her finger nervously. Sighing, she spoke.

"Thank you Harry," she whispered softly, Harry only just hearing her over the fire. Equally softly, he replied, "Don't worry about it Hermione. It wasn't like I was going to just leave you there."

"I know, but I still feel like I should thank you." And with that, she quickly leant forwards, planted a soft kiss on Harry's cheek and then ran upstairs at full speed, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. His extremely confused, muddled thoughts.


End file.
